The moon
winces at a lover.
Groans at words.
Glances at your watch, while you
embrace.

Tires of slow-witted, love-sodden anthropoids,
fumbling
against each other -
when every other primate would be done by now.

But
not while Venus graces night.
For then it's rapt.

Watching, while the goddess watches.

And in a rare conjunction with that beauty...
takes
its time.

© Elas Giordano 1995
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